Did a video blog today. 

The guy in the morning

I like to review in my head before I start typing; and I quickly concluded "A pretty rough 24 hours". 

We had a "soda emergency" yesterday - a machine, used by management, was almost out of 4 flavors.  We discovered this too late to fix. 

So, we planned to work today.  I don't mind going in if there's work.  I just hate sitting around with nothing to do. 

So, we came home yesterday.  As usual, I was pretty tired.  I had also taken a phenergan due to almost vomiting in the shower.   Migraine (also a side effect of my medication).

In fact, it came back later and I had to take more medication.  (Excedrin generic)

Then, the upset.  Digestive upset.  Very uncomfortable, bloated, and many trips to the bathroom.  I think it might have been a bad hot dog on Sunday.  Since I didn't vomit (praise Him!) it was probably Clostridium perfringens  - it was a bad night. 

I had been drinking a lot of fluids to stay hydrated, including two bottles of sugarfree electrolyte stuff (I really have to watch that as the lithium depletes me of salt - if I don't get enough salt I will die).  So, I was hydrated at least.  I continued that and went to bed. 

Bubba cat slept with me (the black one).  He woke me up a few times for petting.  I'll let him to it, but no one else.  He rubs against my hand, purring, until I wake up.  Then he wants petting for a while, I stop and go back to sleep.  A couple hours later, purring - nudging the hand. 

I love it.  If getting the attention and the "cuddles" of the cat sleeping right next to my head mean I wake up a few times - I'm OK with that. 

Ron had fallen asleep early so I was unclear on the pickup time (I had turned off the computer without checking on our times).  I set my alarm for 5, and that was about right. 

I seem to wake up at 5 almost every day of the week.  I like to get things done before work, not after.  I have more energy and better focus. 

I had horrible nightmares, in which an apocalyptic disaster had occured and we had no water.  I was dying of dehydration - until I woke up and turned the shoe leather in my mouth back into a tongue.  Ugh.  I get SO DRY at night.  I wake up constantly to drink, at least a quart, and still wake up dying of thirst (side effects of my medication). 

Then I got up, with the alarm.  Ron was awake so I talked to him for a while.  Morning Ron is great, very empathetic, sensitive, understanding.  I love talking to him. 

I skipped my God Time but figured I could make it up later, and it was important to build bonds with my husband.  I had a headache, but not as bad as Monday.  I took some Excedrin, a quick shower, and went to work. 

We took care of the emergency and I realized we are almost out of honey buns.  See, the store has 2 types of honeybuns.  One costs x cents per unit.  It is 3 ounces.  The other honeybun costs x+5 cents, and is twice as large.  They both have a very good food cost. 

So, Ron and I buy, and sell, the larger one.  The other vendor sells the smaller bun for the same price as mone.  They a hard time selling them.  I saw her giving away expired products the other day. 

MY honeybuns sell in a week.  In fact, last time I doubled my order and we're still almost out.  The customers LOVE these honeybuns. 

Like I tell Ron "They want to feel like they're ripping us off."  Good.  Let them.  Everyone's happy. 

It is more important, in my estimation, to sell more units at a slightly lower cost, than to sell less units at a higher cost, with waste.  Take Walmart: they buy low, sell low, and people keep coming in. 

Unfortunately, a lot of people in the vending business want to buy their product as cheaply as possible and sell it for the highest possible food cost.  That's fine if you're the only game in town, but just at work, within 1 mile, we have 2 gas stations and a donut shop.  If they don't like my values and merchandise, they'll go somewhere else. 

As you can see, I feel really strongly about this.  Ron's just happy the honey buns have a good food cost and a high turnover. 

I really enjoy our business.  I don't always like the hours or the demands of the job, but I like it. 

So, we worked.  We came home.  I took a nap (kind of a common theme here).   I woke up right when Ron started drinking (he has a policy of only drinking after 12, and today waited until 4). 

Afternoon Ron is not as fun as morning Ron.  He wasn't ugly but he was more irritable, impatient, etc.  I had to remind myself that isn't my husband. 

My husband is the guy in the morning. 

Almost-fight

I woke up with a horrible migraine, but I'm having an easier time now. 

I have eaten excedrin like candy today - 3 doses.  I hope I can sleep tonight.  I hope my head improves. 

So, I promised I would tell you about the almost-fight yesterday. 

One thing you need to realize, I am not very organized.  I have a lot of trouble with executive functions.  What's that?  Organizing, planning, scheduling, managing type of things.  "Where will I put this?" being my biggest problem. 

We got a letter from the mortgage company this weekend.  "You didn't pay your school tax!"  Yes, we did. All $292 of it. 

What would that buy, like, one textbook? 

Anyway, I was concerned.  As these things go, this was an iurgent, mportant paper.  I get pretty anxious about handing those off to Ron, who has a braille filing system in his closet.  After his head injury.  When they kept telling me he would be totally dependent, he's taking care of me. 

So, I rather agitatedly brought it in to Ron and gave it to him.  Ron thought I was anxious about the content of the letter.  I wasn't.  I just wanted to hand off the urgent, important, thing to him before I lost it.  Especially since it relates to the mortgage. 

Ron was irritated "What do you want me to do about it on a Sunday morning?"   "Put it away" I told him.  So, he did. 

He later came to me, why are you so anxious?  We paid this already, it's just a glitch and fixed with a phone call. 

I don't care about the contents, I told him, I just don't want to lose the important thing!  THAT makes me anxious, not the letter - not when I wrote the check and mailed it myself. 

Oh, he said.  Next time try to convey that!  I thought you wanted me to fix the problem right then! 

Those people

I had planned to do a post about empathy, judging one's neighbor, and my general protectiveness of Ron.  Even God, really.  If I feel like someone's slighting Him I tend to react. 

Anyway, I think I'm being led to another post altogether.  It's working. 

What's working, Heather? 
The plan. 
What plan is that?
Class warfare. 
Why do you say that? 

Are you on Facebook?  Even Christians I respect are posting some pretty harsh comments about "people who take from the rest of us".   Let me do a cut and paste. 

From a discussion:
"They can get this if they are willing to move into a gov't subsidized housing complex. And be ready to put up with all the crime that is so rampant in these areas. Why are 'the Projects' so crime ridden? Aren't they supposed to be full of people just trying to get by but have atough time? And of course disregard all the new vehicles parked all over. I see this every day in south Dallas where I work"

"back before welfare existed, what are the statistics on starvation? you never hear about it because people had to work for what they had or go without... it is not the gov't job to GIVE you anything.... that is where we went wrong"

Even the kindliest comment I could find contained this:  "kids later in life and only what you can afford, etc"  So, you're going to tell people how many kids to have?  Sounds like Communist China.  Maybe you will forcibly abort if they have an "unauthorized", huh?   Oh, and by the way, OB's say it is better to have children when you are young.  Far better for baby and Mom, fewer health complications.  The rate of birth defects skyrockets with older mothers: at age 40 she has an 8% risk of having a child with a birth defect.  She also has a high risk of having a child with a chromosonal abnormality - which can translate to later disability, so frankly, I'd rather see a younger mother. 

Now, if I wade into the conversation about 'Those people taking from us with their wel-fare" (a couple years ago it was "Those illegals, etc."), and say "Not everyone getting benefits is a user" - then they might grudgingly admit: someone like Ron has a "right" but the rest of those losers, etc. 

I am entitled to a disability check, twice over.  Once for the FAS, once for the bipolar.  I haven't taken it because I'm not at risk without it.  Someone out there needs the money to put a roof over their head, and I want them to have it.  I am in housing, my bills are paid (barely), and I have food to eat.  I won't starve or sleep in the gutter - but some might.  So, let them have it. 

I had to apply for Medicaid to get my wisdom teeth out.  That was an interesting process.  They wanted to know all my assets (zero), bank accounts, jewelry, vehicles, etc.  They don't do this now?  The way people carry on, I wonder.  I do see a lot of very nice cars in the food stamps parking lot.  I also knew a drug dealer who didn't report his income, so his family could get food stamps. 

Anyway, I saw the social worker and she said "You're getting the Medicaid."  She looked at me and said "You qualify for food stamps, too". 

"I have enough to eat" I replied.  She was shocked. 

I walked out of there with the medicaid card only.  I used it to get the wisdom teeth out, a few bladder infections (one day I'll do a whole post devoted to them), and then gave it up when my job offered (lousy) insurance. 

Ron stopped taking his disability check when it looked like we would finally make enough to support ourselves.  He only took it again when it became apparent he had new, lifelong, disabilities that pretty much ruined his chances of ever working again. 

Someone might hire a blind man; but not a blind man in a wheelchair.  Well, maybe Goodwill, but what would they have him do? 

Anyway, that's all we get, one disability check (could get two).  We have some discounts and deferrals on the property tax.  He has paratransit services because he can't ride the bus alone; and I have a half-off bus pass.  I pay 60 cents a ride instead of $1.25.  That's actually the only thing I've ever taken for my disabilities. 

I feel fine about what we get.  We could have other programs, but don't, because God has provided in many ways. 

Oh, I checked the discussion.  They're raving about illegals now and saying some really cruel things.  Are the people in the discussion Christians?  I don't think so.  Let me check a comment - and view the profile and see if that person claims a faith.  Here we go NOT MY OPINION: "Sounds like all illegal scum talking."  - didn't mention faith in the profile.  

What am I trying to say?  Ron and I almost had a huge fight because I wasn't clear about my intent (more on that in another blog).  

Don't hate the recipient.  Hate the system.  Instead of throwing helpless people out into the street to starve.  And someone who is dependent on handouts is helpless.  

People kept raving about how "people on welfare" needed to "get an education".  

Here's a thought: what if they can't learn?  

Example: Ron likes to talk about how "Everything is made of atoms".  He kept sharing this with his drivers.  Most gave him blank looks, and one said "What?" - they didn't know the definition of atom.  I told Ron, privately, so as not to embarrass or offend.  Ron didn't believe me.  Said I was "racist".  

I told him, OK, don't believe me, but try to rephrase so they can understand.  They feel stupid when you "talk like that" because it exposes their ignorance.  

Ron didn't do it for a while, but then he started saying, "Just like water, ice, and steam are all made of the same thing..." "The three states of matter, you know..." etc.  

They still didn't get it.  One driver got very upset and said there were not 3 states of matter.  Ron asked her how many existed.  She said she didn't know.  He tried to explain, ice-water-steam and she got upset again.  She got so flustered I told Ron to stop, fearing she'd get in an accident. 

Some people are that ignorant.  There are a few odd individuals who are working a driving job while attending school, or a job in their chosen field didn't work out, but a lot of them are very ignorant of anything but driving.  

They have a skill I do not.  I commend them for that.  I usually feel very safe riding around on paratransit.   That's a tremendous accomplishment in Houston - "I got to work alive". 

I saw a lot of lovely people working as CNA'S.  Most of them were not well educated but they had heart and a good work ethic.  Are they making much?  I don't think so. 

My point: many people on welfare are very ignorant.  If you want to "fix" things (not that I think it is possible) you would have to revamp the system, getting "ahold" of the children at a very young age and putting them into intensive learning programs.  Help them learn while they're still asking questions, and "bugging" all the adults.  If you want to educate, you don't take an ignorant adult, throw them at a school, and "fix the problem".  You will have to start a systemic educational program from a very young age. 

If you throw an ignorant adult at a school program, you will have to do years of remedial instruction and diagnose all learning disabilities.  It might just be cheaper to keep them on Food Stamps.  Forced labor?  Very common in communist countries and not something I think we should consider in America. 

So, does it dawn on anyone, they might want you hating your lower-income, different race neighbor?  Because if the two of you teamed up you might actually vote some changes into Washington?  No, they never consider it. 

Which is why I think the class warfare plan is genius, if you want to divide and destroy America. 

Dream House

I'm watching a "flipper" show while my hard drive defrags. If you don't know, a flipper is someone who buys a house in poor condition, makes repairs and upgrades, and then sells it at a generous profit.

Now, a little about my home (since I have published my real name I don't have to worry about details). It was a model home in a subdivision in Houston, 2 bedroom, 1 bath, built right before the housing crash. After it was built it was used as an office by the homebuilder for 5 years. Then it was sold, to a couple. They raised pitbulls in the backyard (I found the chains when digging my garden), and lived in the house for about 10 years.

Tropical Storm Allison brought flooding rains; but it wasn't the rain that flooded the house, but the sheriff in his airboat, looking for citizens in distress. A lot of distress, I'm sure, at the flooding!

The family sold the house and moved to a trailer park (I found them through a public records search). The home was purchased by a flipper, who then flipped it to another guy, who then sold it to us.

Having watched the flip shows, I am interested and amused by what "my" flippers did, and didn't do. On the positive side: they installed a new A/C unit. They fixed the drywall (but did a pretty poor job of mudding it - covering the seams). They installed a new stove, microwave, and dishwasher - mismatched. New baseboards. They painted in neutral colors, a light beige for the public areas, cream in Ron's room, a horrible gray in mine (now painted curry gold), light blue in the bathroom, and a ghastly loud orange color for the exterior. Were they high when they picked out the color?  Or, as Ron suggests, did the guy steal it from his job as an apartment handyman? I don't know, but it's grown on me.

The home has apartment grade brown carpeting in the bedrooms, old enough that I think it's original. That's fine. Ron and I are messy. I don't have to worry about my "precious" carpet if Bubba throws up. The rest of the house is tile floors, easy to clean, cream colored with a little marbling pattern. I once told someone if I could pick any floor covering for a Houston home, I would select ceramic tile - which I have. White trim and doors.

Honestly, I could care less about marble tiles, travertine, etc. I detest stainless steel appliances because they remind me of bad times running that awful deli. I prefer white or cream. The fridge is white, the stove is white, and the dishwasher is black. I guess it was in budget.

Don't get me wrong, I love my appliances. They work great, even that old dinosaur of a garbage disposal. Happily, I have copper pipes, which are considered the best, according to my guys.

Which brings me to what they didn't do. The kitchen has original particle board cabinets with a wood grain veneer. I'm fine with them. My side of the kitchen is so cluttered you can't see them anyway. I'm fine with that.

They didn't retile the bathroom, and it really needed it as you know. However, Pete did such a lovely job I'm glad I waited. And, he replaced the bad wood in the wall.   Now it's a lovely beige and cream neutral with a nice marble windowsill. 

They redid the roof - half of it, the side facing the street, and they put the best siding on: wait for it... the back of the house, away from the street. I think part of that was concealing the wood damage in the bathroom wall. Ron had to pay for a new roof, new rafter, and ridge vent. Thank God we could, at the time.

Do I like my house? Absolutely. I love it.  Even with taxes, flood insurance, and standard insurance, we only pay about $750 a month. We could maybe get a 2 bedroom apartment for that, but we wouldn't have the quiet or privacy. It wouldn't be in a decent neighborhood (my mugging and the house getting robbed aside).

Now, what about my dream? If we won the lotto Ron said "Spend a lot of money on the house"? Well, I would love to get some hickory cabinets with a clear finish, in the kitchen. I'd get matching appliances in white or cream, and donate the dishwasher. I'm fine with the floors. They work. I would like to get a dark wood floor in my room [Edit - thinking about it, I prefer carpet for my bedroom] and the computer room [wood or fake wood floors would be great for a rolling computer chair] - and see what Ron would like. Maybe get him those heated floors I saw once, he'd love them in winter.   It would be fun to cover his wall with interesting handwoven fabrics, or another texture. 

I'd probably hire an interior decorator and get some suggestions on paint and curtains, but I would want an inexpensive curtain. Baby Girl likes to claw the curtains when she's chasing lizards.

All in all, I love living here in my dream house.  It's the happiest place I've lived.  In another year, I'll have lived here the longest of any home I've had. 

A very long ride

Two posts today, probably. 

First one - I don't know why this upset me so - actually I do. 

When I was a toddler, I used to try to rescue my mother, because "She was sick".  I was hardwired for caregiving/enabling. 

You know, one of the hardest things in my life, other than setting boundaries - has been figuring out the line between "caregiving" and "enabling". I'm still figuring that out.

For instance, Ron's at the liquor store, but I didn't keep an eye out for the vehicle, or go with him. He's on his own.  I would love it if he brought me a salty snack but I think that goes to endorsing the drinking - so I won't call. 

Even though I would love some Ruffles Sour Cream and Onion chips. 

Today I saw a 12 year old girl, caregiving for her very disabled sister (I'll give you a hint, diapers, formula, blind, and a wheelchair).  Both kids were great, very well behaved.  But I couldn't help thinking it was abusive and wrong to expect a pre-teen to caregive for such a complicated person. 

Ron's siblings used to watch him, make sure he stayed out of the street, etc, but he was only blind.  For some reason, that little girl just cut to my heart. 

When I was a kid, living outside the "big city" - it used to break my heart to look at the homeless people.  My parents kept telling me "don't look at them".  I went to the lighting of the Christmas Trees in Washington, DC, once.  I was devastated to see people sleeping on the sewer grates and cried all the way home.  The subway - I kept telling my escort we had to wake up the lady sleeping on the train, before she missed her stop - then they told me it was probably the only safe place she had, to sleep.  I toughened up, I had to.

It takes a lot to get through my armor.  Somehow that 12 year old managed to do it, sitting so quietly and resigned. 

This world is sick.  Making babies take care of cripples.  I bet the mother is sitting at home getting a check for the caregiving, on top of the disability (the government will sometimes pay people to take care of family members, in order to keep them out of expensive nursing homes).

The driver said it had been a very long ride for all of them. 

"You can beat her, if you want"

Today, at Sam's Club, cutting through the store, I found myself surrounded by champagne.  I thought of the song "G6".  "Poppin' bottles in the ice...." 

I don't drink.  Where do I start on why I don't drink?  The shortest and most honest answer: I have seen too many sloppy drunks, humiliating themselves.  I don't want to humiliate myself that way.  The public answer: the last time I drank (true, and only about a tablespoon of spiced rum), I hallucinated giant roaches everywhere, got really paranoid, and hid in bed for hours.  No one forces the issue, after that.  It could also kill me with a drug interaction, I don't like the way alcohol makes me feel, etc. 

"This would be heaven for an alcoholic, after an apocalypse" I thought.  Then I wondered how they would preserve all the meat in the freezer case, before it spoiled.  Spotting my target, I went into shopping mode. 

I whipped out my cell phone "They have Lipton" (in the cans).  "Get it" Ron barked.  "Already done".  Then I went over to the Cokes and told him the food cost on the 16.9 ounce bottles. 

Our day didn't start so efficiently, though. 

It's not my fault.  It's not his fault, either.  Bubba has forgiven me, for rolling over on him twice in one night, weeks ago.  He has come back into my bed.  If I'm in the bed, he's in the bed.  It's lovely.  Lots of attention, petting, rumbling purrs, and affection from my favorite cat.  If I "have" a cat, it's Bubba (the black one in the slideshow).  If Ron has a cat, it's Baby Girl (the tabby). 

He was so sweet and loving, lying by my head.  I had to hit the snooze button a couple of times.  Then, when I got up, I had to take a shower. 

A quick side note: I am very impressed with the Pantene Ultimate 10 "line".  I bought a bottle of the shampoo + conditioner, and a bottle of the "balm" (hair cream).  I've used them a few times and it really makes my hair look better.  Softer, not as frizzy, etc.  I can run my fingers through my ponytail after taking a nap.  Ron likes the fragrance so it's a winner for both of us. 

After I applied my hair stuff, I went and did my God Time.  However, our ride was supposed to come at 7, so I could only manage the Bible Study part.  So I thought. 

An hour later, the ride finally pulled up.  I pride myself on never getting upset with a driver who is "late", because I don't know the context.  Sure enough, she told us, she had a vehicle full of slow clients scheduled for a very early pickup.  She arrived at the workship well before they opened, and because the clients were slow, had to literally sit with them until the caregivers arrived (a while, apparently). 

Many of the group homes schedule a very early pickup for their clients, so they can get rid of them early, then go on to work their other job or go home.  I think the paratransit company should only pick up the "workshops" after the workshop is known to be open. 

From what I see, 99% of the slow clients live in some kind of group home.  I only know of one who lives with family.   From what I hear, that's about right.  When a slow person turns 18 they generally go straight to the group home. 

Anyway, we finally got to Sam's.  While I was in line to checkout (they have a lovely lady who is very sweet to everyone), Ron called and reminded me I had mentioned I needed crackers for snack 3.  He was right, I got them, then got back in line. 

We had a good pickup from Sam's, and then got to work.  I managed to carry the Lipton in through the credit union, while Ron carried his pickles and the crackers. 

I should tell you about the pickles.  Ron had asked me to get them on Tuesday, but I forgot.  When we got to work, a customer approached us, wanting pickles.  I apologized and told her I'd get them as soon as possible. 

"I want one now!" she complained. 
Ron was carrying a plastic tray used to store sodas.  He offered it to her "You can beat her with this, if you want?"  She started laughing. 
"I don't want to beat her!  But you'd better get those pickles!" 

Today was a day off, but we got the pickles.  She will be happy tonight.  We stocked the crackers and pickles, made sure the machines were working, and left. 

Again, another looong wait.  The driver couldn't find us?  I can't find a google image, probably because it's a federal building, but the building takes up an entire city block. 

At least the weather was nice.  I was glad they took the trip away from that guy, frankly, that level of incompotence scares me.  I don't WANT to ride with him.  Metrolift hired a regular cab to take us home. 

Happily, the driver was a guy we know; in fact, he lives a couple blocks away.  That was a nice end to the day. 

When I got home, I was pretty beat, so I just ate a TV dinner, took my medication, and went to bed with the cat.  He's itching a lot. 

I think I need to put the Advantage on him.  So much for my cuddles.